


Always Where I Need To Be

by everythingafter



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingafter/pseuds/everythingafter
Summary: “We need to recruit, and we should do it before we start really buckling down for Sectionals. So, when you’re searching for a song for this assignment, I want you to use your resources— the other students here at McKinley!” It's the start of Rachel's senior year and nothing is the way it's supposed to be. There are two empty spaces in the choir room- one in the cabinet where their Nationals trophy was supposed to be, and one where Quinn Fabray used to sit. Still, Rachel knows she has to make the most of the year. It starts with this Glee assignment, a little help from the Mack, and an unsuspecting, pink-haired Quinn.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry/Finn Hudson, Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	1. What did you think would come out of it all?

**Author's Note (Part 1):** I'm going to try something new here. I'm sure it's pretty common, especially in the Glee fandom, to end up with ff-inspired playlists. There's going to be quite a few songs mentioned in this fic, and some that won't be but are a part of my writing inspiration. If you're interested in a playlist to set the mood for your reading, check out the playlist "[I ask to be a hummingbird](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0ymKdu3XwdFO1D88bzbGyk?si=xIw-mycFQCiJCYVGJjU7Wg)" on spotify. :) It'll be updated over the course of the story. 

* * *

“I swear, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing Blaine in those bow ties. Who knew he would really end up transferring to McKinley to be with me? It’s... romantic, Rachel. I fall in love with that boy a little more every day. Although I may need to work on his matching skills—“ 

It’s the first Tuesday back at Glee following an... interesting summer, to say the least, and Rachel already has her eyes on the prize, so to speak. She’s had to deal with months of most of the Glee club practically shunning her (for reasons she understands entirely), and she hadn’t even _heard_ from Kurt until the news about Blaine. Now, though, the boy has turned his chair in her direction and started on again about his summer of romance with the curly-haired junior from Dalton. In another life— meaning last year— Rachel would be basking in all of this: the unwavering attention from Kurt, the gossip, and the topic of “true love”. 

Instead, she barely suppresses an eye roll, and smiles instead, cutting him off. “I can imagine you’re glad he’s here, Kurt. He’ll be an incredible asset to the team.” She winces at the sound of her words, a little too gung-ho even for herself, but Kurt seems to barely notice. It’s not as if he’s really talking to _her_ anyway— it’s more like he’s talking to anything or anyone who happens to listen. 

Luckily, Mr. Schuester takes that moment, on time for once, to enter the room with Finn trailing right behind him. The former nods in the general direction of the club while the latter makes a beeline directly toward the seat right next to Rachel. Finn presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey Rach,” he mumbles, smiling dopily. 

As much as she used to spend, well, every waking moment vying for the tall boy’s attention, Rachel finds herself tensing at the public affection. It feels more for show than anything. She can imagine Finn is still under the impression that the kiss— the beautiful, disastrous one that led to their embarrassing downfall at Nationals— was worth all that followed. For some reason he clearly believes that rubbing it in the face of the rest of the club is the right move, even as they all stare daggers in their direction. 

Rachel just sighs and readjusts in her seat. As much as she’d love to tell the club the news that she and Finn aren’t even actually, technically together, she knows that will somehow bode worse for everyone. Then, she wouldn’t even be able to hide under the pretense that anything good came out of that kiss. It’s not that they’re _not_ seeing each other, but Rachel made it very clear only a couple of weeks into summer that she wanted to take it slow this time, and that she needed time to think about the status of their relationship. 

“Time” turned into three months of sporadic coffee “dates” at the Lima Bean, even rarer movie nights, and mostly Finn showing up unexpectedly at her doorstep at least once a week. The boy’s tendency to pursue anyone who isn’t actively pursuing _him_ would be almost funny at this point if it wasn’t putting Rachel on edge. She really doesn’t mean to string him along, but it’s hard to make any kind of decision when he’s breathing down her neck every second. 

Forcing herself to shake the thoughts out of her head— she really _does_ want to win Nationals this year, and the whole point is to not be distracted by any boys— Rachel crosses her legs and leans forward to show Mr. Schue that she’s paying close attention to whatever motivational lesson he’s going to use to start off the year. 

Mr. Schue takes that as enough acknowledgement to begin and clears his throat, causing everyone in the room to settle. “Welcome back, guys! I hope you all had an amazing summer. Now, I know not everything went according to plan the last time we saw each other.” He almost unconsciously glances in Rachel and Finn’s direction, and Rachel suppresses an eye roll because she figures she deserves the slight. “I really think this is our year, though. So many of you are going to be graduating before you know it, and I would love to win us a Nationals trophy before you cross that stage.” Usually, there’d be cheers here, but the room is apathetic at best. 

Luckily, Mr. Schue seems unfazed by the tough crowd. “I’m so glad you’re as excited about this as I am,” he jokes, “and I hope you channel that energy into our first assignment of the year…” He picks up a marker, turns around to the whiteboard, and writes one word as he speaks. “Explore.” 

“In the last two years, we’ve done a good job as a group of exploring new ways to perform. We’ve done hairography, we’ve made some incredible mash-ups, and some of you have even written original music.” Rachel beams a little at that, because despite everything she really is proud that she was able to perform her own song on a stage in New York. “But I’ve been thinking,” Mr. Schue continues, “that maybe we need to work on exploring a little bit more of ourselves.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Schue. I’ve been doing _plenty_ of self-exploration this summer,” Santana quips, earning a high-five from Puck and a whistle from Finn— who ends up on the receiving end of a patented Rachel Berry glare. 

Mr. Schue is clearly a little thrown by the comment, but he recovers relatively quickly. “ _Not_ like that, Santana. I want you guys to explore your music. All of you, I’m sure, have some connection to music outside of Glee club, and you probably even have a favorite genre or two.” He points around the room. “Finn and Puck, I know you love classic rock. Mercedes and Santana, you’re into R&B. Rachel, you love musicals. Brittany listens to a lot of pop, right?”

Brittany is the first to speak up, nodding. “Now that I’ve realized there’s space in this world for two Brittanys, I’ve been super into her music,” she comments. 

Mr. Schuester laughs. “Exactly, Brittany, thank you. My point being, we all have our own tastes, and it’s easy to fall into a pattern. It’s almost like an echo chamber— you might branch out every once in a while to find a song to perform for Glee, but how often are you branching out for yourselves? We clearly have a lot of learning and self-improvement to do to win Nationals this year, and it starts today. Your assignment for the next week is to explore the world of music and find a song that is entirely out of your typical wheelhouse. I don’t want you to choose a song just to complete the assignment, though. Find something you really connect with. A song that drives your passion for music _that_ much further.” 

Rachel is actually pretty impressed with the idea, even though she can’t immediately think of any genre she doesn’t know well. She’s always prided herself on her vast music collection, even though most of her classmates— and Mr. Schue, apparently— only think of her as a Broadway fanatic. 

“There’s one other thing. We’re down a few members.” Those words don’t even really need to be said. Everyone is quite aware that a certain blonde is missing from her usual seat in the back of the room, and Rachel feels an unexpected pang in her chest when she thinks about it. The energy in the room just feels different without Quinn, somehow. No one’s even _heard_ from her since they got back from Nationals. 

“We need to recruit, and we should do it before we start really buckling down for Sectionals. So, when you’re searching for a song for this assignment, I want you to use your resources— the other students here at McKinley!” There’s a collective groan, but Mr. Schue continues. “Find another student who runs in a different circle than you, and they might surprise you with the music they’re able to share. Hopefully, we can get them to start thinking about joining Glee when they come next Tuesday to watch you perform. Bonus points if you can convince them to perform with you.” 

If everyone was on edge already, the room now practically buzzes with negative energy. Everyone’s eyes are on Finn when he clears his throat. “Sorry, Mr. Schue, but this just feels like social suicide. I mean, high school has its cliques for a reason. We might be a team in this room, but out there is _different_.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t have to worry about that if you’d just kept your obscenely long giraffe tongue in your mouth long enough to win us a trophy,” Santana shoots back. 

Mr. Schuester holds up a hand. “Santana, let’s not blame—“ 

Santana laughs, cutting him off. “Not blame Finnept? Please. Look around. We’re back in the ass crack of Ohio with nothing to show for it and we have even less members than this time last year. If we’d won Nationals, we _still_ wouldn’t be cool, but now anyone in their right mind won’t touch us with a ten-foot pole.”

“I get it,” Mr. Schue sighs. “That’s why I’m giving you guys this assignment, and you have a whole week to figure it out. It might be hard, but it’s not impossible, and we need this if we’re even going to be able to compete.”

He’s about to continue on to some motivational speech, but Santana cuts him off again. “Oh, I just realized I so rarely agree with you that you didn’t know that was happening.” The words sound harsh, but everyone in the room has known Santana long enough to realize she’s joking in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I actually think it’s a great idea. Plus, I can’t wait to show off to all the freshmen I’ll scare into joining.”

At that, Mr. Schue laughs — albeit a little worriedly— and claps his hands together. “You heard the girl. Let’s get to work!” 

\--- 

As excited as Rachel initially was for the challenge, by the time she’s getting ready for bed that night she’s given herself a headache trying to make a list of all of the McKinley students she has any chance trying to convince to join. There’s Jared, a redheaded boy in her English class who seems to always have his headphones in, but she thinks he’d rather fly under the radar for the rest of high school if given the opportunity. There are a handful of cheerleaders in her gym period who are clearly talented enough to perform, but if they didn’t join Glee under Quinn’s reign, there’s definitely no reason they’d join now. There’s the Mack, one of the Skanks, who comes off as _terrifying_ but has actually been pretty sweet— the word is relative— to Rachel during their handful of encounters. Rachel’s face lights up when she remembers a time the Mack alluded to being in a band during a junior year AP English Language presentation. It’s not much, but it’s something to go off of, and this is a way better option than failing at the assignment or getting slushied for attempting to speak to a cheerleader. 

She has no idea what the girl’s actual name is, so there’s no way she can find her on Facebook. She’ll wait until tomorrow to bring it up in AP Biology. Rachel’s not under any impression that she’ll actually convince the Mack to join Glee— it’s hard enough being an outcast for one reason, let alone two— but it’ll at least give her an avenue for the assignment. 

If she says yes. 

It’s really very unlikely. 

\--- 

It’s that kind of thinking that the Universe appreciates, apparently. When Rachel slides down in the open seat next to the Mack the next afternoon, she’s ready and prepared with a full speech to convince the girl, which all falls apart immediately. She’s only just explained the point of the assignment when the Mack cuts her off. 

“—Berry. Slow down. Holy shit. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm.”

Rachel braces herself to be let down— it’s not like it would be the first or last time— so she’s surprised at the next words. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” Rachel can’t help her stunned response. “Really?”

The Mack just shrugs. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies with that thing. Maybe you caught me on a good day, or maybe I’m just bored, but this actually sounds fun.” She pauses, tapping her pencil on the desk she’s already marked up with a handful of drawings of some kind of symbol Rachel’s never seen before. “I’m not saying I’ll join. There’s no way in hell that’s happening. But you’re pretty chill sometimes, and I like watching you call out the idiots in this class who like to pretend they know shit.”

Rachel laughs uneasily because she would never imagine the Mack’s paid any kind of attention to her antics. “They _are_ kind of idiots. Most people hate that about me, though.”

The Mack tilts her head. “Nah, I think it’s cool. Some people could probably benefit from being knocked down a peg or two. It’s just funny when it’s a five foot tall bombshell doing the knocking.” Rachel suddenly has the feeling she’s woken up in some alternate universe where one of the toughest girls in the school is actually cracking a joke that’s about her, but not at her expense. “The band is getting together later after we get out of this hellhole. Meet me at my place at six.” She rips off a corner of a random page in her lab book— causing Rachel to cringe a bit— and scribbles down her address in almost unintelligible handwriting. 

Their teacher takes that moment to start class and Rachel can somehow tell the conversation is over for now, so she slips back to her regular desk next to Tina. The girl gives her a look, but Rachel just pretends not to see it. 

\--- 

When Rachel pulls up to the Mack’s house later that night — surprisingly a quaint, kind of unsuspecting home— she almost has to laugh at herself. She’s fifteen minutes early, and there’s no way she’s walking up to the door any earlier than just on time. She settles in her seat for a few minutes, just scrolling through her iPhone’s music library to kill time and settle her nerves. She’s not exactly… great at social settings, and while the Mack’s been cautiously nice, there’s no reason to assume the rest of the Skanks will be as positive about her attendance. 

Finally, the clock on the dashboard shows 5:59 and she forces herself to step out of the car. “Alright, Rachel, you can do this. It’s just an assignment. It’s doubtful anyone else will be successful at this rate, and you don’t want to let Mr. Schuester down again.” She knocks twice on the door, foregoing her usual chipper knocking pattern. 

“Just get in, pick a song, and get out. It’ll be fine. It’ll be great. It’ll be—“ 

She’s still in the middle of her pep talk when the door swings open and a voice is yelling toward the back of the house. “Mack, I told you to stop inviting your sugar daddies to practice. We just need to get through our set without…“ The voice trails off. 

The voice, attached to one pink-haired, clad-in-all-black, confused Quinn Fabray. 

“…an audience.” 

Rachel, despite herself, smiles widely. “Quinn! I didn’t expect you to be here. Are you in the band?”

Her smile fades quickly when Quinn, for her part, just turns on her heel and stalks back into the house. 

_Okay_. That went well. 

* * *

**Author's Note (Part 2):** I know, I know. Not enough Quinn in this chapter ;) The idea was originally for a one-shot, but this will end up as a couple of chapters at least, mostly because I know if I don't post this now, I won't get around to it until next weekend. Hope you enjoy! Also, the chapter title is from the Vaccine's song A Lack of Understanding. 


	2. I'm sure we've been through this before

By the time Rachel makes it through the back of the house she can hear harsh whispering. It’s not exactly the most welcoming environment but it’s not like she expected much to the contrary. It’s really just _Quinn_ that’s shocked her system— for someone who lived at the top of the high school social hierarchy for so long, she’s managed to do an incredible job of flying under the radar. It’s unclear how many of her so-called friends actually noticed, yet Rachel can’t help but feel a little miffed at Quinn’s blatantly bothered reaction. 

It’s not as if she spent all summer wondering about Quinn without reaching out. Every Glee club social gathering was bookended with two messages sent to the blonde— an invite and a follow-up ‘Wish you were here!’ when the lines stayed predictably quiet in response. Rachel had imagined at the time that Quinn’s silent treatment was an attempt to distance herself from Rachel in social settings following the Nationals disaster, but even casual check-ins were left unread. The summer of worries even culminated in Rachel driving by the Fabray household a handful of times, hoping to catch a glimpse of the younger Fabray making her daily run or returning from grocery shopping. No such luck, although one quick once-over and a, “Sorry, dear, Quinnie’s not here right now, but feel free to visit again later!” from Judy Fabray gave her at least enough comfort to back off for a while. 

A while has led to this, apparently. 

Rachel enters the room (really, just an add-on garage at the back of the house that’s clearly been converted into a practice space) to catch the end of Quinn’s sentence. “—And you _still_ invited her?” The Mack seems surprisingly unfazed by what Finn had once dubbed ‘Scary Quinn’. “If you think for a minute I’m going to rehearse with her here, you’re mistaken. You can find yourself another bandmate. You know what? While you’re at it, go ahead and ask—“ 

“—Rachel,” The Mack cuts in, but she’s not responding to Quinn’s rant as much as she’s welcoming the brunette, who feels herself blushing as she raises a hand in the general direction of the group. “Glad you could make it,” she smirks. “At least, I am. The rest of the group can decide for themselves. You can ignore Quinn’s bitching. She just hasn’t had her coffee yet.” 

“Yes, I have,” Quinn growls. 

“Couldn’t tell.” 

Rachel half-expects to be back out the door almost as quickly as she’d come in, but the rest of the group just nods at her in a way that makes her feel they’re not entirely impressed by her presence but not against it either. 

“The other ones besides this pink-haired child are Ronnie and Shiela,” The Mack continues, pointing. “Ronnie is our bassist and Shiela can usually keep up on the drums.” That comment gets her a finger from Shiela.

“Hi, Ronnie and Shiela,” Rachel responds, trying her best to keep her voice even. “Thank you for having me today.”

Ronnie just shrugs while Shiela says, “That’s Quinn’s game more than mine”. She laughs when Rachel just looks at her with a confused expression. 

Rachel turns toward Quinn who, as expected, isn’t making eye contact. Is she blushing? She shakes off that thought. “Are you the singer?” 

Clearly, a response isn’t going to come from Quinn directly, and it’s The Mack that finally responds after the silence grows uncomfortable, probably taking pity on the girl. “Quinn’s actually on guitar and keyboard. Who knew that a bible-thumper could have such agile fingers?” 

“Shut up,” is Quinn’s half-hearted response. Rachel briefly wonders what happened to the quick-witted cheerleader she once knew. 

The Mack just ignores her. “We’re going to run through a quick few for our set on Friday. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but maybe this’ll give you some ideas.”

Rachel nods, choosing to take a seat on the only couch available in the room. It’s quite rustic, an old orange color and ripping at the seams. 

The band sets up quickly, each of them getting ready with their instrument. Ronnie’s first note on the bass rattles Rachel’s brain, but it’s clear she’s just messing around when she starts actually tuning. Quinn’s own tuning is quick and without much fanfare, and Shiela does a lazy drumroll while she waits. 

The Mack taps her mic before turning back to her band mates. “I think we should start with—“ 

“Delirium,” Quinn cuts in, speaking past the pick she has hanging in her mouth. 

The Mack apparently isn’t one to disagree with a grumpy Quinn, so she just nods after a moment. “Alright, Berry. Hope your ears are ready for this.”

Rachel’s not sure exactly what she was expecting, but since speaking to The Mack in school earlier that day she’d spent a lot of time trying to picture what the band would be like. For one thing, she never imagined Quinn on _guitar_ , consideringthere had never once been any mention of musical talent beyond her voice. It’s also fair to say she imagined the Skanks’ collective music taste to include heavy metal— or something that included at least a bit of screaming. 

The music they’re playing isn’t soft, per se, but it’s decidedly _not_ metal. Rachel has never heard the song they’re playing, but it’s good, if not a little loud for her taste. She can’t tell if it’s just a result of the small room, but she swears she saw Quinn twist up the volume on her amp and strum with extra intensity that may or may not be out of spite. 

She’s determined not to look like a child in front of them, though, so she just clenches her jaw and focuses on their sound. The group sounds a little unpolished for her taste, but she supposes that’s meant to be the point, and she confirms quickly that the style actually works for them. 

The Mack is up front, naturally, and manages the lead vocals in a way that make Rachel wonder if she’s had some vocal training in another life. Her voice is clear and fits the song as if it was written for her to sing. That thought should be what keeps Rachel’s attention— it’s rare that she meets someone with particularly impressive vocal abilities in Lima, and she thought she’d met all of those contenders through Glee club two years ago. 

It’s Quinn that really captures her, though. The Mack’s comment about Quinn’s _agility_ — Rachel blushes— as inappropriate as it was, doesn’t even do Quinn justice. She’s playing with ease as if she’s practiced for years, but Rachel knows that there’s no way that’s true— not with the Fabray household being what it was pre-pregnancy. At least, there was no way Quinn was practicing music like _this_ , heavy and loud and definitely not of the Christian variety. The guitar is maybe the only thing that links this Quinn with the one she’d known since sophomore year. It’s simple, just a white body with light wood on the fret, and the strings bend with ease in response to Quinn’s deft fingers. 

Rachel finds herself holding her breath during the guitar solo when the bridge hits, so focused on each note that she doesn’t even realize what she’d doing until she feels lightheaded. Then the solo is over, The Mack jumps back on vocals, and she dares to cast a glance at Quinn’s face for the first time since the song began, only to see hazel eyes staring her down in return. 

There’s something in Quinn’s gaze that makes her heart flip and she’s not sure it’s in a good way. 

The song is over in what feels like a minute and a lifetime all at once, and much to The Mack’s apparent chagrin Quinn rolls into the next without hesitation. The rest of the band has to trip over themselves to keep up. This song is much heavier and fits a little more of Rachel’s initial expectations. If it weren’t for the lyrics, Rachel thinks she wouldn’t be a fan, but as it stands the words are heavy and clench around her heart. 

_“Can’t you hear me when I’m calling out your name?”_ Quinn’s vocals back up The Mack’s, complimenting her clear voice nicely with a raspier tone. The song never stops picking up and Quinn’s pink hair starts sticking to her forehead only halfway through, her forearms flexed from the speed of her strumming. 

There’s a few more songs that follow— at Quinn’s demand, no less, and even with The Mack singing lead vocals it seems to be an unspoken agreement amongst the group who actually makes the decisions around there. That’s especially true when Quinn lets the last note ring out on a song from the Vaccines and promptly lifts the strap over her head. She sets the guitar down against the amp, letting the feedback scream through the room for only a moment before shutting off the power and leaving without a word. 

The Mack just rolls her eyes. “Alright, I guess let’s break.” Neither Ronnie or Shiela look like they’re about to complain— everyone’s gleaming with sweat at this point anyway and Shiela has to shake her arms a few times after placing her drumsticks down on her snare. They both follow Quinn’s path out the door with a nod in Rachel’s direction. 

“Sorry if we busted your eardrums. Those are probably pretty important if you’re serious about Broadway or whatever,” The Mack starts. 

Rachel scoffs,. “I can’t believe you would think I’m anything less than _serious_ about my future on Broadway… but it’s okay,” she adds, not actually upset at her new acquaintance. “I actually thought you were good. It’s not my usual taste, but you have a lot of talent.”

The Mack smiles. “If it wasn’t so fucking gay in there, maybe we’d kill it in Glee.” 

Rachel wants to be bothered by the comment but knows it was meant as a joke, albeit slightly misplaced. “I suppose I can’t convince you to join, then.”

“You’d be right. Love singing, but I think all that drama would suck the soul out of me.”

“Oh, it will. That’s the best part of show choir,” Rachel comments sarcastically. As much as Rachel knows her friends think she thrives off of drama, she’d actually much rather keep to herself and work on honing her craft. It’s not _her_ fault that the others don’t want to take anything seriously. 

“Well, if you thought that’s what you’d be getting out of this, no dice. Sorry, Berry.” The Mack almost seems genuinely apologetic. “I hope we gave you some ideas for that project of yours, though. I doubt any of this is what you’re blasting at six in the morning on your bike thing.”

Rachel freezes. “How do you know about my morning routine?”

“Oh, just Quinn’s shit talking.” Rachel flinches even as The Mack cracks a smile. The knee jerk reaction is easy to fall back on when she’s had years of experience with Quinn hating her and only a few months of an unstable friendship that fell apart before it really even started. The Mack isn’t entirely unaware of Rachel’s feelings on the matter, apparently, because she awkwardly pats Rachel’s knee in what Rachel imagines is an attempt to be comforting. “Kidding, Berry. I mean, she does talk about you, but she’s not as mad at the world as she wants people to think.” 

“You mean mad at me?” 

“I meant what I said.” Rachel isn’t sure what to make of that but The Mack is done with the topic, likely either bored or not interested in getting too deep into her friend’s business. Rachel thinks she’d understand either scenario. 

“Anyway, we have a couple more songs to roll through before Friday, so maybe there’s something that’ll stick. Like I said, no way in hell I’m singing for your club of misfits, but I’m kind of curious what you’re going to do with this shit show, so I’ll be there on Tuesday if you want.”

It’s a sweet offer that surprises Rachel. “Y-yeah, that would be amazing. I think the rest of the club wouldn’t appreciate if their captain wasn’t even able to complete the assignment we were given. Thank you… The Mack,” she ends awkwardly, realizing that she really has no idea what to call the girl besides her nickname. 

The Mack laughs. “You can just call me Mack. No need for the ‘The’.” 

“Where did that name come from, anyway?”

“Well… what I tell people is that it’s a double entendre because I make out with truckers at truck stops.” Mack grins mischievously. “I mean, it’s the truth, don’t get it twisted. But the ‘rents named me Mackenzie. What a trashy white girl name. I’ve been going by Mack since I was five.” 

Rachel knows her eyes are wide with all this new information. She hadn’t expected Mack to even consider her Glee project proposal, let alone share any personal stories. Rachel guesses there are more surprises where that came from. “I like the name Mack. I think it suits you.”

The two girls share a smile for a moment before Mack remembers to maintain her stoic persona and clears her throat. “Seems like the rest of the band ditched us. Wanna go check what shit they’re up to?” 

Rachel hesitates before nodding. “Sure. Although, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Especially with Quinn. And my dads are probably wondering where I am, especially on a school night. I rarely make it home after seven o’clock without informing them of my location and they’re likely wondering where I am. I can just use the ideas I have, and if I have any questions I imagine I can ask you in class. If that’s okay, that is. I don’t want to ruin your image and I’m sure speaking to Rachel Berry isn’t exactly the kind of circumstance you want to find yourself in on a regular basis,” she rambles. 

“Hey, slow your roll. You’re good, Berry,” Mack stops Rachel in her tracks. “I don’t want to keep you. We can definitely regroup tomorrow.”

Rachel nods and grabs her purse before standing up from the couch. “That sounds perfect, Mack. Thank you again for your hospitality. Please tell the rest of the band that I’m appreciative of them letting me crash their rehearsal time.”

She doesn’t even make it to the doorway before she’s almost run over by Ronnie and Shiela on their way back in, each carrying a box of pizza. The two almost don’t notice as they tower over her, which causes Mack to snicker. “I guess you can tell them yourselves.” 

“Hey, lovebirds,” Shiela almost sings. “Pizza’s here. Quinn ordered.” 

Rachel sees Mack glance in her direction. “You wanna stay for food?” 

The offer is appreciated, which makes Rachel disappointed when she has to turn her down. “Thank you for the offer, but… I’m vegan.” She expects criticism in the form of anti-vegan jokes, as is her usual experience, but instead the three Skanks just nod. 

Ronnie responds first. “That’s cool, dude. I could never, but that’s impressive shit. Also, there’s vegan pizza.” 

“Are you two vegan?” Rachel asks, looking between Shiela and Mack. 

“Nope,” they respond together. Shiela looks equally as confused as Rachel, but Mack is sporting a slick smirk. 

“Quinn got it for you,” says Ronnie. 

Quinn walks in with a small box in her left hand and a bottle of water in her right. She tosses the box onto the couch where Rachel was sitting without any acknowledgement in her direction and then proceeds to chug the whole bottle of water without dripping any of it onto herself. 

Mack whistles. “Damn, Quinn.” 

Rachel is caught off-guard by the entire interaction. She eyes the box suspiciously but then notices it’s actually from her favorite pizza place in Lima— also the only place around that happens to serve vegan pizza at all. “Thank you, Quinn,” she speaks, carefully picking up a slice of cheese-less pizza loaded with vegetables. 

Quinn just nods, still refusing eye contact. 

Rachel decides that someone actually remembering her dietary restrictions— even Finn rarely did— is enough of a reason to risk breaking curfew and settles back on the couch. For the next twenty minutes, she eats and mostly listens to the Skanks discuss everything from music to school to relationship issues— although from the sound if it, it seems like ‘relationships’ might be a stretch of the word for Mack especially. The girls almost act like Rachel isn’t there, which helps to soothe her anxiety about being the odd one out. 

\---

Finally, Ronnie stands up to use the bathroom, Quinn makes a comment about grabbing a smoke, and Shiela starts toying with her drum kit. It’s an easy break in their conversation and Rachel thinks it’s the perfect time to make her way home before her dads get too concerned. She thinks about giving Mack a hug but settles for a wave and promise to check in the next day instead. 

The clock in Rachel’s car reads just past eight o’clock when she plugs her phone into the aux and pulls up one of the songs she’d heard during the night. Mack had given her a list of music on the way out and made her promise to listen to the originals because the covers “couldn’t do them justice”. 

She’s just about to put her car in reverse when there’s a knock on her passenger door, catching her in her thoughts. She jumps and has a moment of panic before she realizes it’s Quinn knocking. 

Said girl slides into her passenger seat before even asking, the scents of cigarettes and cinnamon reaching Rachel’s nose a moment later. She frowns, wondering when Quinn would have picked up such a bad habit. “You should probably lock your doors,” Quinn starts. “The world is pretty messy, Berry. You don’t want to get caught in it.”

The comment is vague and riddled with hidden meanings but Rachel does her best to take it in stride. “Noted. Why are you in my car?” Rachel asks, and it’s not meant to be taken in any way but Quinn’s eyes darken for a moment still. 

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Rachel can’t help but roll her eyes. “Please, Quinn, the Skanks aren’t nearly as scary as they make themselves out to be. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay… what _do_ you mean? I want to understand, Quinn. I… want to understand you.”

Quinn scoffs. “I think you’ve spent the better part of two years trying to understand me. You clearly haven’t gotten far with that.”

“I’d like to think otherwise,” Rachel defends. “You and I, we might be different in a lot of ways, but we’re more alike than you want to believe. I don’t understand why you disappeared, o-or why you won’t open up to—“ 

“Give it _up_ , Rachel,” Quinn growls, and Rachel would be intimidated but she’s distracted by the use of her full name. “Don’t you know how to let things go?”

The comment stings, even though Rachel knows it to be true. She’s definitely not one to give up on something that matters to her, and that particular quality could often be construed as a character flaw. To her, though, it’s the reason she’s survived this far.

“I think you’ve given up on enough for us both,” Rachel says softly, watching as a sort of sadness takes over Quinn’s features. 

“I haven’t… given up. It’s not like that. I just need some space.”

“From what?” Rachel asks. 

“From all of it.”

Neither girl realizes it but their voices have lowered to a level barely above a whisper. 

“Does that have to include me?” Rachel hates how broken her voice sounds. It’s not like she’s ever been particularly close to Quinn, but losing her even for a few months has left a hole in her life she wouldn’t be able to explain even if she tried. 

Quinn just sighs. Half a minute passes before she starts to speak again. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” It looks to Rachel like Quinn wants to stop there. She feels her heart drop in her stomach. “I don’t think you’ll be able to stop yourself from trying to get me to rejoin Glee,” Quinn adds, and it’s said flatly but a small twitch of the corner of her mouth gives her away. 

Rachel places her hand over Quinn’s which is resting completely still against the gear shift. She feels Quinn’s fingers twitch below her own before they’ve pulled away like she’s indecisive about the touch. “I won’t. I mean… I might, in a moment of weakness. Your voice is beautiful and we could always use your talent, but I’m just happy that it’s not going entirely to waste. What you’re doing here, it’s _good_. Maybe no one else will understand, and maybe I don’t yet either, but I’m going to try. I just want you to be happy, Quinn.”

Quinn shakes her head. “Happiness is overrated, Berry. Everyone thought I was happy when I was at the top, and I realized pretty quickly that it didn’t matter how I actually felt. The world had their opinion of me and they took it as the truth because it fit so easily into their narrative.”

“And now?” Rachel asks, even though she thinks she knows the answer. “Are you happier?” 

“I’m definitely… something.” 

It’s a non-answer if Rachel has ever heard one but she decides to let it go. 

“Well, I’m willing to offer myself up on a trial basis.”

One of Quinn’s eyebrows raises as she smirks. “What?” 

“Ugh, _Quinn_ , don’t be crude,” Rachel scoffs, the smile on her face giving her away. “I mean as a friend, of course. I want to offer my friendship to you. I know you have the Skanks, but I’d feel better if you didn’t disappear on me again. I can sense your hesitancy, though, so I’m calling it a trial friendship.”

“I can cancel the subscription within thirty days without a charge to my card?” Quinn quips. 

“Exactly.”

The feeling of normalcy between them is fleeting but enough to break the tension. Rachel isn’t exactly confident that Quinn will accept her terms, so it feels as if the weight of the last few months slides off her shoulders when she hears a hesitant, “Fine.” 

Rachel perks up. “Great! Can I see you tomorrow?”

Quinn groans. “Should have seen that one coming. I can’t tomorrow. We have a gig.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rachel frowns, remembering Mack’s mention of the show. 

Quinn seems to take a second to think about something, imperceptibly nodding to herself when she makes a decision. “You can come… if you want.”

“Really?” Rachel squeaks, then immediately tries to tone herself down. “I mean, really? You’re okay with that?”

“Sure.” Quinn pulls on the door handle, already halfway out of the car. “Just… you know. Maybe bring some ear plugs. It’s going to be loud.” 

Rachel beams. “I’ve been to plenty of concerts. I always come prepared.”

Quinn huffs. “I’ll text you the details.” 

The car door is shut before Rachel even has a chance to respond, which she decides is alright because she wouldn’t have known what to say anyway. Something about Quinn’s presence has always left her clamoring for the right words. 

\---

Later that night, Rachel finds herself frustrated with her potential song selections. Every single song she’d heard the Skanks perform that day sounded amazing when Mack sang them but none of them felt right on her tongue even when she tried to add her own flare. It’s not that they’re terrible options, but they’re not up to her standards either. She’s thinking about how she’s going to discover more songs— maybe another conversation with Mack tomorrow— when her phone buzzes on her bed. Usually, she wouldn’t let a text message distract her from her practice time, but she doesn’t think she’ll make much more progress tonight anyway. 

Rachel’s phone reads eleven twenty-two when she picks it up and she groans inwardly, unaware of how much time had passed. Tomorrow’s turn on the elliptical would definitely be a rough one and she wouldn’t even get close to her required eight hours of beauty sleep. 

Her self-pity ends quickly, though, when she sees who has messaged her. It’s Quinn, and Rachel hates that she’s surprised the girl actually remembered her promise to send her the details. She’d honestly expected her to forget— or even regret her invitation— after leaving their conversation earlier. 

Rachel squints at the brightness of the text screen as she reads. 

_Quinn: Here’s the address for tomorrow._

She hasn’t even finished reading the address before three more texts come in succession. 

_Quinn: Sorry for the late text. Practice ran longer than expected._

_Quinn: The gig’s later than I thought it would be. We’re on at ten now. If you can’t make it, I understand._

_Quinn: Seriously, don’t feel obligated to come. It’s not that important._

Rachel is quick to type out a response, feeling Quinn’s anxiety through her phone. 

**Rachel: Thank you! I just have to run it by my dads, but I plan to be there. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”**

_Quinn: Okay._

**Rachel: Goodnight, Quinn.**

_Quinn: Night._

It’s not much, but it almost feels like they can start over from here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the time in between updates, work has been taking up most of my life recently. By my new estimate this story will end up being ~4 chapters. The songs specifically mentioned in this chapter are, in order:
> 
> \- My Delirium by Ladyhawke  
> \- The Rat by Walkman  
> \- If You Wanna by the Vaccines 
> 
> For the full ff playlist, look up "I ask to be a hummingbird" on Spotify. There's also a link to the playlist in the first chapter. :)


End file.
